Perspectives: The Prank

Perspectives: The Prank

Remus Lupin

Remus sat on the corner of the old bed, edgily watching for the sun to set. Periodically his eyes would dart to the door of the bedroom, and to the crooked stairway beyond. Soon his friends would appear through that door. Well, only two of them tonight, but he couldn't help that the full moon coincided with one of James's meetings. Perhaps tonight Lily would open her eyes, and realise that the messy-haired quiddich player was really the man of her dreams. Remus grinned to himself- Perhaps not.

He glanced at the door again. He didn't really expect them to be arriving, not yet. They'd been having problems recently, sneaking into the shack under the prying and overly-large nose of a certain Slytherin. Besides, he didn't necessarily want them to watch the change. Even through the eyes of a dog, stag, or rat, it must be horrible to see.

Tonight would not be so bad, or so long, he reminded himself. This was one of a handful of lunar cycles in which the moon reached its zenith while the sun was still in the sky. While Remus privately believed that this occurrence should grant him a fifty-six day clemency from transformations, werewolf physiology did not agree with him. Instead of a fortuitous break, he knew he would transform late tonight, the night before the moon reached her peak, and again tomorrow, before she finally waned once more.

Once upon a time, this fact had upset him. Now, however, he felt luckier than anyone. He and his friends had great plans for the next forty-eight hours. Sirius, as Padfoot, would be with him tonight, as would Peter. James would join them tomorrow. Remus shivered.

The sun had set. It would happen but a few hours from now. The full moon would rise, and his friends would come. Remus sat on his hands to stop their jittering, whether caused by fear or excitement, or both. Torn hangings from the bed blew in a stray breeze. The moon was coming. He could smell her imminent arrival. He was always a little afraid of the moon, that such a distant body could tear him apart, make his awareness go away. But it would come back, he knew. He would find himself in the eyes of the great black dog, white stag, and grey rat. Besides, what were a few moments' pain to a night spent wrestling Padfoot, or watching Wormtail ride in the antlers of a galloping Prongs? Exhilarating thoughts kept his fear at bay.

Remus Lupin's last coherent memory was of glancing to the door of the shabby bedroom, and knowing that soon a friend would enter.

Severus Snape

Severus reached the end of the passage first, having utterly ignored Potter's calls. A greedy hunger lit his eyes as he glanced back at the frantic boy; then he opened the door. Whatever may come, he thought triumphantly, will be worth it to have seen the look of terror in James "Heroic Bastard" Potter's face.

He opened the door expecting to find Remus Lupin's shocked face, or perhaps a trail leading to the other boy's escape routes from school. Instead there was nothing, a room, just a room there to greet him. Disappointed, he took a step inside. Ahead of him, large French doors led to an entry hall; a door to his left opened onto to a smaller sitting room. All about the place was the smell of bloodshed. What little furniture there was, had long since been splintered. Though not buried under eons of dust, he knew this was not a place where humans lived. It was then that he heard the low growl. Turning, he saw the most terrifying sight of his young life; an enormous wolf was crouched in the doorway to his left with its teeth bared. A jolt of adrenalin surged through Severus Snape's body. This was the end. He froze. The wolf stepped closer, feeding off the fear of its prey. Its eyes were black beads, and inch-long fangs protruded from under quivering lips. Objective time, for Severus, ceased to exist, its seconds counted only by the growls echoing from the great beast's chest.

At that moment, several things happened at once. Potter reached the room, shoved Severus back into the passage with one hand, and slammed the door behind him. At the same time, the wolf sprang.

Seconds later, a breathless Severus heard the crash of glass and wood. There was a strangled yowl, and James Potter came bounding back into the passageway. He was white and shaking. He sealed the door with his wand, took a deep steadying breath, and charged ahead, pulling Severus along with him.

"You great reckless GIT!" was all he said.

Snape ignored the admonition, as he continued to replay the last minute in his mind. He had followed Lupin down to the willow. He had traced Lupin's steps through the passageway. Lupin had passed through that door. Had Lupin known about the wolf?

"Wait," he said finally, coming to a certain logical conclusion, "that thing... was Lupin?"

"C'mon," Potter ordered in a voice meant to be obeyed. Severus followed, stunned into civility, as they hurtled down the seemingly endless tunnel.

Several steps later, James spoke again, apparently addressing his hand rather than present company. "Shack. Now," Severus heard him say.

They exited the Whomping Willow. Severus stopped to speak again, but before he said a word, Potter's wand was out and pointed towards him. "We're going to see the headmaster," was all he said. Severus Snape followed, wondering why he continued to obey the one person he loathed most in the world (with the possible exception of Sirius Black.) Perhaps he was still disoriented by the events of that night. Perhaps something of the desperate edge to Potter's voice made Severus unable to refuse him.

James Potter

Sirius was looking more sullen than usual when James arrived in the dormitory, fresh from the Young Political Wizards League meeting he attended merely for the benefit of watching its president speak. The grin brought on by the recent presence of Lily Evans, even if she had completely ignored him at the end of the meeting, disappeared immediately. Something was wrong.

"Why aren't you with Moony?" James asked cautiously.

"Couldn't ditch that greasy louse, Snivellus" was Sirius's only reply.

"I thought we had discussed this. Padfoot, did you follow our plan? You were going to -"

"Didn't work," interjected Sirius. "But he'll get what he deserves. Always sticking his pointy nose in our..."

James was confused by this statement, and even more by Peter's frightened whimper following it. Until then, he hadn't even noticed the third boy in the room. James addressed Sirius again. "What happened?"

Black clenched his teeth.

A small voice piped up from behind. "He told him."

Now James was growing more frightened. He turned to Peter. "Told who? What?"

"Told Snape. Told him how... how to freeze the willow... about the passage," the small boy whined.

"Sirius," James said slowly, "that's not true is it?"

"It is... And he deserved to know," Sirius spat bitterly.

James turned once more to Peter. "Did he go?"

"I... I think so."

Sirius looked up at James, and for that moment, his glance was neither angry nor sullen. The eyes that looked up at James were terrified.

James turned and ran.

Heedlessly, he dashed through the corridors and onto the grounds. As luck would have it, he encountered no one. Only one thought was in his head - please let me not be too late. He wondered if this is what she had meant when his mother told him that one day he would have to take responsibility for the world around him. If so, he wasn't entirely sure he enjoyed being responsible.

The Whomping Willow was just beginning to wind its swinging boughs when he arrived. Good, the Slytherin couldn't be very far ahead. He tapped the knot with a stick lying nearby, and disappeared among the roots. He ran, as though his own life depended on it. His thoughts flowed in the rhythm of his feet. Snape. Don't. Go. Through. The. Door. Don't go through the door. His lungs burned more than they ever had during a rough quiddich practice. Finally, he saw Severus Snape's form at the end of the passage and called for him to stop. James's shouts were returned by a smug smile and greedy eyes. For a moment they stood regarding one another. Snape's dark figure turned, disappeared through the doorway, and shut it quickly behind him.

James raced down the final stretch, wondering what on earth he could do when he reached the greasy louse. The only way to protect himself once he crossed though that doorway was to transform, something he could not risk doing in front of Snape without severe recrimination. That was, if it was not already too late. Sprinting, he reached the door and threw it open.

Once inside the shack, panic melted away, and James was entirely aware of what was happening. Keep Lupin away from the door; it was his only goal. He didn't have time to think, but the quiddich player in him knew exactly how to react. Leaping into the room, he pushed Snape back with one hand, and the door shut with the other. James saw the wolf spring into the air, covering the distance between them, as he transformed, his hands landing on the ground. They no longer ended in five fingers, but in firm hooves. He raised a head now adorned with sprawling antlers.

With one swift motion of James's antlered head, the wolf had impaled itself upon sharp tines. The werewolf had no idea what had happened. In the next instant, it was flying across the room and through the glass doors opposite. It gave a surprised and painful yowl as it hit the ground, blanketed with splintered wood and glass. James the stag took this momentary reprieve to become a man once more, and threw himself into the passageway.

He couldn't clearly recall the next few minutes, only that they seemed to last an eternity. They were filled with the same recurring thoughts; "Sirius you great reckless git... Must get to Dumbledore... Must tell someone... He could've killed... I could've killed..."

Somehow he managed to bring Snape up to the castle. He would tell the headmaster everything. Well, almost everything. James blindly led Snape through corridor after corridor, hardly noting that once again the fates smiled on him, and kept any meddlesome individuals away from their path. Having traveled this way so many times before (although never in quite so much trouble as he knew he was in now), his feet led him straight to the headmaster's tower. They arrived at the great stone gargoyle, and James addressed the nearby portrait of Sir Fluddiwinks, an unfortunate wizard who had turned himself into a talking donkey.

"I need to see Dumbledore NOW."

"In trouble again, are we young Potter?" the donkey-wizard brayed. Something, however, must have convinced the sentry of the seriousness in this situation, because rather than wait for an answer, he left to fetch Dumbledore immediately.

Moments later, the stone gargoyle began to move.

Poppy Pomfrey

Teachers aren't supposed to have favorites - everyone said so. But that rule, Madam Pomfrey felt, did not necessarily apply to the school nurse. In fact (she laughed at the irony), she did have a favourite student. He happened to be the one student against whose admission to Hogwarts she had fought most furiously. Once the headmaster had decided to welcome the boy, however, there was nothing the young nurse could do but research medical management of werewolf attacks. She was bound to see one sooner or later. She attended workshops with names such as, 'Lycanthropy: How to End the Epidemic,' and 'Werewolves: They Have Claws Too.'

Of course, this was not the only irony savoured by the pragmatic witch. After all of those seminars spent preparing for the worst, she had yet to treat another student for the disease. In fact, the only werewolf induced injuries she'd ever actually seen had been self-inflicted- they didn't teach her about that in the seminars.

All of this served to make Hogwarts' very first werewolf just another student in her eyes; the children were always hexing and cursing each other into her domain (when they weren't busy exploding potions or falling off flying brooms). Hogwarts, mused Madam Pomfrey, must have one of the busiest infirmaries in the country.

No, the frequency of his visits had not won her heart- it was the boy himself. After nights of howls and screams that she imagined she could hear up in the castle, she would bring him tea and books as he recovered. He always greeted her with an open smile, standing to help her when he was able, and saying, "Good morning Madam Pomfrey." She would reply, "Well, good morning Mr. Lupin. What can I do for you today?" He would stay there for a moment, just basking in the sun through the shack's east windows, then reply, "It was a spectacular sunrise. Might I trouble you for a bit of that salve?"

The first several years that he was in her care, Poppy would take a deep breath each morning before entering the shack. She could never guess how bruised and broken her charge would be on the other side. Every time, she feared that he would not be able to greet her at all. Recently though, he seemed to be handling things better, standing more and hurting less come morning. She could not guess what had affected the change, but noticed that he smiled in the morning like a little boy with a wonderful secret.

He never ate much the after the full moon, but she taught him how to boil the water for his tea with just a tap of his wand. He was one of the few students who actually asked for his missed class work while he was away. Some days in fact, she refused to give it to him, because some days, he needed rest more than anything he would learn in his textbooks. He'd sigh then, and return to his daylight vigil. Thus, several nights and mornings a month, she would watch over him. Remus Lupin was without a doubt, her favourite student ever.

It was her care, and yes, love, for this unassuming boy that leant such speed to her feet and pounding to her heart upon receiving Dumbledore's message.

Sirius Black

The taunt still Rang in Sirius's ears as the cool night air closed over his face. His broom dipped and rose with the shaking of his hands. He could still feel anger that burned in his chest when the black-hooded figure had stepped out from behind the bushes. Just when they thought they were free of the snoop, he'd appeared to spoil their plans. Sirius growled deep in his chest. Though he normally loved flying, tonight his muscles longed to run through the forest. His voice longed to call out a chorus to the moon. His throat closed with the knowledge that one overzealous flea-riddled slug of a Slytherin had spoiled all his plans. He played the scene over and over again in his mind.

"Looking for your boyfriend, Black?"

"Get your gossip from the second-years, Snivellus?"

"I saw Lupin leave the grounds this way. I know you're sneaking out too."

"Bully for you."

Then Sirius had had an idea. It was brilliant. It was perfect. The Slytherin's own curiosity would be the end of him. Sirius had smiled, wolf-like. It was so simple. Even Remus would have been proud.

"You know, if you're so eager to find him, you'd only have to press the knot on the tree." He'd paused. "I can't believe you never figured that one out for yourself, little Snivellus."

Sirius had sneered, turned, and wiped his hands on the air, his mission accomplished. Even James had never thought of this. After tonight, they might be rid of Snape forever. Because he could be dead, piped up a small voice in Sirius's mind. Sirius shivered. He didn't like small sensible voices. He did not like to doubt his actions. What did you do? the little voice asked him. Nothing, he silently snapped back at it. Snape would never find the right knot. He would return to his dungeon feeling the fool. He would stop following Remus from the castle. Sirius would join his friend late tonight, but with great enthusiasm. They would bark and laugh at Snivellus the silly slime. Remus would silence the little voices, Sirius thought. He needed Remus. Though the boy was awfully quiet, he tended to think about the things he did say. Sirius needed his friends. Always quick on his feet, Remus's reasoning left little room for self doubt. James's ideas reached for the sky; he never failed to conceive the impossible. Peter was their support, always there, always ready to help. And Sirius, Sirius was the master of execution, ever eager for action. They were quite a team, the Marauders, even when they weren't playing Human for the night. Then guilt strangled Sirius's stomach like a vice. Remus had transformed already. Remus was in the Shack waiting for him and for Peter. Remus was expecting his friends, and Sirius had as good as sent Snape to meet him instead.

"Come on Peter," he'd said to the quaking boy. They had turned toward Gryffindor tower. Sirius did his best to stifle the rising guilt. It wasn't as though he brought Snape to the shack himself. The coward might not even go. "Everything will work out." It always did.

Though for once, Sirius wasn't entirely sure he believed his own words.

Sirius landed on the dark lawn, and shook the shades of memory from behind his eyes. He had flown out the dormitory window just moments after James had called him to the shack. He sent his broom back to the tower, and still arrived in time to see Severus and James leaving the roots of the Whomping Willow. Sirius avoided the path of their dash towards the castle, hiding in the same bushes from whence Snape had emerged that evening. His fists still clenched with the recollection. Once the two figures had passed, Sirius snuck into the passage under carefully poised and trembling branches. He began to lope towards the shack. Snape was alright. Sirius had seen it with his own eyes, and was unsure whether to feel disappointed or relieved. He'd have to find another way to get back at Snivellus for his infernal snooping. Sirius's ever-calculating mind continued to assess the situation, however. James had used the mirror and ordered him, Sirius, to the shack. If not to assist damage control with Snape, he must have been summoned there for... Remus! Oh god. What if something had happened to Remus? Sirius ran faster, magically unlocked the door at the end of the corridor, and transformed into an enormous black dog.

The smell of blood smothered Sirius's finely tuned canine nose as he entered the shack. He had never seen so much, nor stepped in anything so warm and sticky. He did not have to look far for its source. A dark form lay crumpled in the remains of the shattered glass door. He bounded towards it, landed by its side, and nudged his friend with his muzzle. There was no response. Quickly, he stood up in the form of a human. The blood threatened to turn his stomach, squelching under his feet. Now he could give a face and name to the heap of fur, bones, and blood on the ground. It was Remus Lupin.

"Oh Moony," he moaned, falling to his knees. The werewolf shuddered, unable to attack the prey so close to its face. Sirius looked closely at the body, branding every detail onto his memory. He ran his fingers over the slashes through flank and the once-soft white fur of Remus's underbelly. He saw splinters of wood and glass embedded in the wolf's face. One front paw and forearm was ripped and shredded from his attempts to move. Sirius was numb. Magic utterly failed him, and left only a frightened young man.

He crawled closer to the wolf, and pulled its head onto his lap. The eyelids remained shut. He held the bleeding paw in his own stained hands. No teeth were bared. Tears welled in the boy's eyes, but he blinked them away. Something was happening. Even as the full moon cast its pearly white light into the room, the wolf was changing. Bones cracked, lacerated skin stretching over them, matted fur receded, and Remus, human Remus, lay on his friend's lap. His eyes opened for a moment in surprise. He looked up at the moon, and then focused on Sirius's face. Sirius watched, spellbound, as the corners of Remus's mouth curved upwards into a gentle smile, heavy lids fell down, and a deep breath filled his chest. The blood flowing from his wounds had slowed to a trickle.

Sirius searched his memory for anything that would help him understand what was happening, or what he could do. He faintly recalled words, a passage from a book he'd read in what seemed another lifetime. "The werewolf will revert to human form in the moments before death, forever concealing his nature - that of a monster." The words had once incensed him, yet now, as he looked at his friend's blue-white, yet peaceful form, he knew them to be both true and entirely false; this was the body of a fallen angel. The only monster in the room was the one who had caused this to happen- Sirius himself.

Remus's chest rose and fell once more, then was still. Panic rose in Sirius, and he squeezed the cold hand in his warm ones. Suddenly the door behind him swung open, and a familiar figure ran into the room.

"Oh my," said Madam Pomfrey, shaking. Sirius looked wide-eyed at the most welcome face he could have imagined. Regardless of how she knew to come, she was here, and Remus was saved.

Albus Dumbledore

Albus had entered his office in sleeping robes and a nightcap decorated with snoozing moons and sheep. His carefully alert face contrasted with their puerile pattern. For a moment, he simply regarded the two disheveled students breathing heavily in front of him.

"Good evening," he began. "What can I help you with Mr. Potter? Mr. Snape?"

"Sir," began James, his composure returning, "Something happened just now, in the Shrieking Shack," he added significantly.

Albus Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly, but he spoke calmly. "Is anyone injured?"

"I don't think so sir. Lupin though. In the shack. I left him..."

"Say no more. Dylis?" he addressed a portrait whose sitter jumped to attention, "Would you send Poppy to see her charge?"

"Right away." Dylis dashed from her frame.

"Mr. Snape," he said, turning to the glowering boy. "There is a lovely tray of peppermints in my antechamber. You are welcome to any and all while I discuss this matter with Mr. Potter. I shall call for you momentarily, I'm sure." He followed the young man out of his office with a wistful glance, knowing that he would pay in Snape's resentment for listening to Potter's story first. Unfortunately, Albus knew that this student would only hate him more at the end of the night, assuming that Potter's story confirmed his fears. Perhaps though, he was wrong. One should always be careful not to assu-

"Sir?" James Potter's worried voice cut into his headmaster's thoughts.

"Yes James- go ahead. What happened tonight?" He could almost see wheels turning in the boy's head, trying to put a positive spin on the story he was about to tell.

Potter began his yarn. Albus could not help but be impressed by the manner with which the boy spoke; he communicated essentials while discreetly concealing certain key facts. Albus Dumbledore looked keenly at him, and applied only enough Legilimency to ensure that the boy was not openly lying. Potter finished, and Dumbledore slowly sighed.

A student had entered the shrieking shack during the full moon. This, or something like it, had always been a possibility with Lupin in the school. Albus was thankful that it had not come to pass sooner, or with more dire consequences. Then reprimanded himself- he did not yet know for certain what harm had come of Severus Snape's misadventure. Potter may be right in thinking that Lupin was hurt, and Albus chided himself for thinking of injury to any one of his students as an acceptable outcome.

"Very well," he said slowly to Potter, "may I ask a few questions?" The boy blanched, but nodded.

"When did you discover Mr. Lupin's condition?"

"Second year sir. We all did, Black, Pettigrew, and me. But we're his friends! We wouldn't tell anyone!"

Yes, thought Albus Dumbledore. They were friends; Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew. What trouble they got themselves into. They would never give up one another's secrets - yet tonight he was almost certain that one of them had.

"How did Mr. Snape discover the entrance to the passageway?"
"I don't know." It was Potter's first lie. "But I told you. Peter said that he overheard Snape would be following Lupin there tonight." The second part was true.

"Are you protecting someone?"

"Yes." James Potter may be loyal to a fault, but he was also inherently honest.

Albus looked at him closely again. Who would Potter protect? Did he see self-preservation in the boy's eyes? No. The boy was protecting a friend! But which? Ah, the one whose name was carefully excised from the tale. Very well.

"Sirius Black will come to my office later." He paused, then asked the question whose answer most intrigued him. "How did you fend off the attacking wolf to save both Mr. Snape and yourself?"

"I used a spell that we learned after we found out about Remus, one that would check an attacking wolf. I think it hurt him though." Though he saw no untruth in the boy's answer, Albus wondered why Potter did not reveal the name of the spell. He must have looked skeptical because Potter added, "We found it in the restricted section of the library."

"Well, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, "I would like to congratulate you for saving several innocent lives tonight. You may return to your dormitory, and have no fear. Remus Lupin's secret will remain safe, and I will inform Mr. Black that you did not reveal his role in these unfortunate events." A perplexed James Potter left without a word, and Severus Snape entered the office looking both defensive and murderous.

Before he could begin to speak however, the door clanged open, and a breathless, wild-eyed Poppy Pomfrey entered with blood on her robes.

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked, momentarily taken aback by her appearance.

"Oh, Albus," she began, "It's not good. Black is with the boy now. I think you should send for his parents immediately." She cast a worried glance at Severus, and then exited as unceremoniously as she had come. Albus penned a few words, and sent them with his phoenix out a window high in the circular chamber. He was distracted by this news, but began to question Snape nonetheless.

"Severus," he began wearily, "I take it you have some idea of what I am going to ask of you?"

"Not really, Sir," Snape breathed warily.

"I would like for you to keep the knowledge of Mr. Lupin's condition, confidential."

"But professor Dumbledore, that isn't fair."

"It is his secret to share or not."

"Lupin doesn't belong here, and now I know. It isn't fair to the rest of the students that he stays. He isn't safe. He's a killer."

"Right now, he is fighting for his life." Dumbledore changed tacks.

"I am sure that I need not remind you that your actions tonight violated school rules while endangering your life as well as those of your classmates. Such action could be grounds for expulsion." He paused, "You will agree with me, that very little tonight is fair."

They stood silent for a full minute. Snape clearly knew when to halt the vitriolic flow of words ready to issue from his mouth, condemning anyone who would willingly place a werewolf among young children. Albus, silently shaken that things had come to such a pass, took a calming breath. He knew that he must win the boy's respect, not frighten him into silence.

"Professor Dumbledore," Snape began, reasonably taken aback by the threat of expulsion, "I just wanted to know where he was going."

Albus sighed. "Curiosity lights the fires of innovation, and should not be punished. You will not be expelled for having a rather... inquisitive... disposition. But Severus remember: as you cannot help your nature, neither can Mr. Lupin.

"You see, now, the decision before me? I could threaten you with punishment or obliviation to ensure your silence, but I have found that such measures often have... undesirable consequences. I could acquiesce to the powers of prejudice, expel, and condemn a very promising sixth-year student to a life more difficult than the one he already leads. I prefer, instead, to appeal to your sense of decency, and request your silence upon this matter."

"Fine," Snape hissed, a malevolent glare lurking behind his blank features. Albus would have smiled wryly as he watched the boy try to appear his most innocent. Snape was simply waiting until he could leave the office, and tell his - associates - of the night's discovery. "I won't tell," the boy said aloud, knowing full well that lying to his headmaster was never a good idea.

"That isn't true," Albus replied. "You are right now deciding whether Bellatrix Black or Lucius Malfoy will be the quicker to raise a pitchfork-wielding mob after hearing your story."

Snape looked surprised, but soon collected himself. He wanted to know how the man know exactly what he was thinking? Unimportant. Snape knew he was still in control of the situation. He could still get something out of it. He could still get Black. "Alright," he began again. "I want to know that those responsible for tonight will be punished. Sirius Black knew full well what would happen when he sent me down there. He would have been an accomplice to murder. I want him to pay."

Albus sighed heavily. "He will."

"And," Severus added almost as an afterthought (though it was a request that would change his life) "I want you to teach me how you know exactly what I am thinking."

Albus Dumbledore paused, carefully considering his next action. He wondered if the boy standing before him knew what he was asking for. The headmaster, however, knew, looking at the eager light in those eyes, that the skills of Occlumency and Legilimency would be worth any silence to this boy. Dumbledore knew that he could impart these skills to the sullen teenager whose silence meant everything. With the feeling that he was leaving a nesting dragon in a classroom, Albus decided to give him lessons. Perhaps it would be for the best. Snape, as an Occlumens with a distinct proclivity for the Dark Arts, could be very dangerous, or he could come in very useful... Our actions, Albus Dumbledore reminded himself, a moment before accepting the young man's bargain, have more far reaching consequences than we can ever guess.

Helen Lupin

Aurelius and Helen Lupin arrived at the school via floo powder not an hour after receiving the headmaster's note. It had taken Helen that long to get dressed, as her hands were shaking so terribly. This was the note they had dreaded since the day they sent their only son to school nearly six years before: it simply stated that Remus was in trouble, and gave the address of the headmaster's own fireplace. As it was the first of two full moon nights (nights they counted even when Remus was away) the news could not be good. Both Helen and Aurelius had been educated on the continent, and so they had only been to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once before. That time, the purpose of their visit was to discuss the arrangements that would protect their only son from others and protect others from their son. This time, they felt sure; they would learn how those arrangements had failed.

Though always the stoic one, Aurelius was deeply shaken upon receiving the letter. He loved and cared for the child deeply, though it had taken him a long time to acknowledge it. He placed an arm over his wife's shuddering shoulders as they stepped into the headmaster's office. Albus Dumbledore's warm eyes and comforting smile began to calm Helen immediately. Dumbledore was the man who had finally convinced her to let the boy go, to let him be a normal student, had told her it would be alright. Perhaps the situation was not quite so dire after all. She hoped that one day her son would grow into just the sort of reassuring man standing in front of her now. She hoped that one day he would grow into a man at all.

"Thank you for arriving on such short notice," Dumbledore began, "if you will accompany me to the Shrieking Shack?" They exited his office, and made their way down to the entrance of the castle. "There is a coach awaiting us. It will bring us through Hogsmead unseen."

They continued in silence, afraid to speak openly in front of the staring and sleepy-eyed students making their way down to breakfast. Outside of the front gates waited a Thestral drawn carriage, and they climbed into it. This must be one of the horseless carriages Remus had told her about, mused Helen, relieved that despite the troubles of his youth, Thestrals were still invisible to him. The carriage itself, however, was quite perceptible. Helen wondered how they would pass through Hogsmead without anyone noticing, but as Dumbledore had told her not to worry, well, she wouldn't. Once inside the carriage, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I am afraid there has been an accident. A student came across your son last night. While this student remains unharmed, and sworn to secrecy, your son was seriously injured in the rescue." The relief that had washed over Helen upon learning that her son had neither bitten nor killed another student, dissolved in the pool of icy fear now forming in the bottom of her stomach.

She had seen her son ravaged after many a full moon, and knew that the staff here had as well. They were not likely to call Helen and Aurelius for anything less than life-threatening injury. She knew that her husband was experiencing similar thoughts as he squeezed her hand in his. Unable to meet the eyes of either man in the swaying coach, she turned her head to the window. The early-rising tradesmen were just beginning to leave their houses, and the hens to rise from their nests. None of them saw the carriage pass by, or felt the fear in a mother's heart. Dogs stretched their drowsy bodies unceremoniously, and pink toned light spread across the sky. The world continued to move, completely oblivious to any tragedy the night before, and Helen realised that, Dumbledore's charm not withstanding, she had never felt more invisible.

Sooner than she had expected, they arrived at the house set aside for Remus's monthly transformations, disembarked, and carefully entered.

The scene that met their eyes was like that of a grizzly murder someone had ineptly attempted to 'Scourgify.' A large pool of blood, though scoured, had stained the floorboards below. Odd bits of wood and glass littered edges of the floor, while a small trail of dried blood led to the bedroom upstairs. It was this that Dumbledore beckoned them to follow.

They entered the room, and saw Remus carefully covered on the four-poster bed. He was as deathly pale and white as the sheets around him. His eyes were closed, and half sealed cuts lined his face. His lips were faintly blue. His torso was tightly bandaged, as were his right arm and hand. Rust colored stains seeped through the bandages around his belly.

Helen ran to her son, embracing him around his thin, bare shoulders. His skin was so cold, she thought, and he didn't react at all. She looked up. It was only then that she noticed the other two people in the room. One was the school nurse, Poppins or something. The other, a strikingly handsome teenager, could only be Sirius Black. Remus had described him so many times. Now however, his face was pale and drawn, and he did not meet her eyes as she looked enquiringly up at him.

Just then, the nurse began to speak. "We aren't entirely sure what happened, but Black here and I have him as stable as we can for the moment. He won't be able to take any blood-replenishing potions until he regains consciousness."

Aurelius spoke up in a thoughtful, calculating voice. "And if he doesn't wake up before the moon rises tonight?"

"I don't know," replied the nurse a little hopelessly.

So that was why they were called, Helen thought, to say goodbye in case the unthinkable happened. In case her son didn't survive the night.

"Can we stay?" she asked, eyes wide, begging.

The nurse looked at Dumbledore. He seemed to take pity on the almost-bereft mother, and nodded. He would protect them from Remus, should the werewolf choose an inopportune time to wake.

Helen stayed in the room all day and evening while the others came and left. Dumbledore and Pomfrey went to the school. Sirius and Aurelius wandered off, probably to give her time alone with Remus, whispering to him softly. They returned later, with two of Remus's other friends. The one in glasses must be James, thought Helen, and the smaller one, Peter. They both looked as shocked as she had upon seeing her son. James in fact, needed the other boys' support to stand.

Eventually, however, all left but the three of them - Helen, Aurelius - and Dumbledore who stood discreetly in the shadows. The moon broke over the horizon, and still Remus had not moved, a slight rise and fall of his chest, the only sign of life. Hair began to sprout, his bones cracked and reformed, bandages slipped, and in the moment before Dumbledore conjured them anew, Helen saw the deep lacerations and the mangled paw. Remus slept on. Helen stroked his fur, under his ears and chest. She realised that she had never touched him in this form before, and was somehow comforted. Her son was strong. He always had been. He was stronger than anyone she knew. He would be alright. He would have to be. She lay her head in her hand, and fell asleep in the armchair.